


Promises

by kylaer



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mingi Is Left Out, Song Mingi-centric, Waffles Are Comfort Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22841173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylaer/pseuds/kylaer
Summary: mingi hasn't felt like a part of the group in months. When he's forgotten in the studio, he finally snaps.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Song Mingi, Choi San/Song Mingi, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung/Song Mingi, Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Song Mingi, Park Seonghwa/Song Mingi, Song Mingi/Everyone
Comments: 13
Kudos: 350
Collections: Favorites ATEEZ Fanfics





	Promises

mingi did it again. 

he’d done something to annoy the members. 

they didn’t voice their distaste for his actions, but he could see it on their faces. in the way seonghwa’s upper lip gently curled up as he looked at him with a scrutinizing glare. in the way hongjoong and jongho looked at him out of the corner of their eyes. he could see it in the way san and wooyoung made eye contact with each other, and in the way yunho and yeosang shifted ever-so-slightly away from him. 

he could hear it, too. or more like he stopped hearing it; all idle side conversations ceased when mingi let out an excited shout, and the room was left in an uncomfortable silence. 

mingi tried to drown his embarrassment with an awkward smile, eyes crinkled in mock excitement. he turned away from the members and laughed softly at the camera, so that maybe his fans wouldn’t be able to tell how easily his mood had shifted. 

mingi didn’t think the others meant to make him unhappy. he told himself that maybe they didn’t realize he knew what those looks meant, or maybe they’d hoped mingi wouldn’t see their expressions every time he laughed. 

____

mingi wasn’t hungry. the thought of eating the beef that sat in the center of the table made his stomach churn. he watched silently as hand after hand reached for the different dishes spread out before them, until everyone’s plates were full. 

he wasn’t sick. it wasn’t some… 24 hour bug that he just needed to sleep off, or a virus. 

it was seeing the others have fun without him all day that made him feel disgusting. 

when mingi didn’t reach for any food, hongjoong poked mingi’s pouting lips with one of his chopsticks. “aren’t you eating?” 

mingi could hear the concern in his voice, and he could see the worried shine in his eyes. mingi knew he cared. so why did everything he did annoy everyone?

mingi simply shook his head, gaze flitting around the room. seonghwa and yeosang were content, eating their food without a care in the world. san carefully lifted a sliver of shaved beef to wooyoung’s open mouth, blowing on it to cool it down before feeding it to him. yunho peered around yeosang, asking jongho to pass the pitcher of ice water in front of him. 

hongjoong was the only one to notice mingi hadn’t reached for anything. 

“you have to eat something, mingi-ah. it’s not healthy to skip meals.” hongjoong pressed. seonghwa glanced toward the pair, eyes wide and mouth stuffed with noodles. 

mingi dropped his gaze to his empty plate. “‘m not hungry,” he mumbled. 

hongjoong pressed his lips into a thin line and picked up a slice of beef from his own plate. he cupped his hand beneath it and brought it up to mingi’s closed mouth; “eat.” 

mingi could feel eyes on him from every direction. he could see san and wooyoung make eye contact again, something he found they did whenever mingi did something they thought was… odd. 

he shook his head and leaned back in his seat. he felt the familiar prickling behind his eyes and bit his lip in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. “i said i wasn’t hungry.” 

“‘not hungry’ my ass,” seonghwa started, rolling his eyes. “you’re always hungry.” 

“c’mon, mingi-ah. just eat one slice of beef. please?” hongjoong pressed the beef to mingi’s lips, only to jump back and drop his chopsticks to the floor in surprise when mingi sprang out of his seat. 

“i’m gonna puke,” he mumbled, rushing down the hall to the bathroom. 

before he closed the door, he heard someone say, “why is he so overdramatic? it’s just a slice of beef.” 

_overdramatic._

he wondered what else they said about him when they thought he couldn’t hear. 

——

mingi sat in a low-backed chair, watching through the large mirror before him as his stylist crimped his hair, and another dotted the tip of his nose with his favorite highlight. he could hear san filming a vlive in the background, going around the room and “interviewing” the others before they had to go out and sit through and actual interview. 

mingi tried his best to ignore them having fun without him. he knew that if he dwelled on it too much, he would just upset himself. he couldn’t do that before an interview their fans would be watching — they’d be able to tell something was wrong. 

and he didn’t want that. he didn’t want to upset them. 

when his stylist asked him if he was okay, he smiled softly at her through the mirror. 

“i’m fine. thank you for the concern, but there’s no need.” 

mingi wished he could tell her what was wrong. but all seven sources of his problems were within hearing distance, and mingi didn’t want them to know they were the cause of his sadness and woe. 

soon after, when his cheekbones and the inner corners of his eyes were highlighted, his hair was crimped and wavy, and his clothes were adjusted to his stylist’s liking, he was released from their scrutinizing gazes to go mingle with the rest of the group. 

he looked through the mirror, watching the rest of his group. they were having fun. he didn’t want to ruin that by joining them. 

so he sat quietly in his seat until it was time to go out. 

san hadn’t come up to him once, even for the fans watching their vlive. 

——

mingi sat on the practice room floor with his legs spread out haphazardly in front of him. he lazily yanked his hoodie up and over his head, not even caring that the thin t-shirt he was wearing underneath nearly came with it, then tossed it to the side before plopping onto his back. arms and legs spread like a starfish, he let his eyes fall shut as he tried to even out his heavy breathing.

he could hear the idle chit-chat from his band mates as they stretched out their stiff limbs. he felt the vibrations through the floor of sneakers stomping and sliding as yunho and san quickly went over a small part of the new choreography. his mouth was dry and craved even a single drop of water, but he barely had the energy to lift an arm, let alone pick up his whole body and walk all the way over to his water bottle. 

that, and lying on the floor seemed to be the only way to dull the pain in his lower back. 

he probably should have told hongjoong or a manager this morning when it was starting to bother him again. he probably should have told them when it only got worse when he was dancing. but the chances that the managers would let him skip a practice —especially on a day that they were learning brand new choreo— for minor back pain were slim to none, and so he just kept his mouth shut, hid his grimace each time the pain intensified, and applied a pain patch, hoping that he wouldn't pass out or die or something. 

that would have been embarrassing. 

he didn't know how long he laid there. he let his mind wander, hoping that if he didn't focus on his back then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much. but soon his thirst became unmanageable and so he was forced to slowly sit up, knowing that if he got up too fast it would only make things worse. he turned and pushed himself up off the ground, then, grabbing his sweatshirt before completely standing. he rubbed his droopy eyes and barely picked his feet up off the ground as he shuffled across the room, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chapped lips when he picked up his water bottle and realized it was nearly completely full. 

for less than a minute, that is, because mingi quickly gulped down the entire bottle. 

it wasn't until he let his tired gaze wander around the room that he noticed something was off, something big. 

he was the only one there. 

mingi felt his heart drop, the realization that no one had bothered to pick him up off the dirty floor before they left finally hitting him.

"i can't believe they left without me..."

——

of course, as fate would have it, the rest of the members had somehow gotten in the car and driven back to the dorms without noticing an eighth of their group wasn't with them. and so mingi was left to walk home in the cold, alone, dressed in nothing but a hoodie and a thin pair of sweatpants. luckily he was able to trade out his sneakers for the pair of timbs that he'd worn to the studio earlier, but they did nothing to stop goosebumps from spreading across his arms and legs. 

the farther mingi walked, the faster his sadness and distraught turned to anger. he couldn't understand how all seven of them didn't notice he wasn't in the car with them. most of them (not naming names) had at least two brain cells, give or take a few, and even the dumb ones (again, not naming names) couldn't be stupid enough to not realize they were down a member. 

and surely when they sat down for dinner and noticed an empty seat they'd realize what they'd done.

the fact that he didn't have his dorm key with him didn't help matters. all he wanted to do now was ignore everyone and go straight to bed (maybe shower first), but now he'd have to get someone to unlock the door for him, which meant running into at least one person. 

when he was finally stood in front of the door, arms crossed right across his chest in an effort to keep himself as warm as possible, he debated just going back to the studio and spending the night there. he knew hongjoong kept a sleeping bag and pillow on the couch in his studio, and there were vending machines for food and drink, so none of that would be a problem.

but he'd already walked all the way home, he was basically freezing to death, and he could practically hear his warm, soft, comfortable bed calling his name. 

with a heavy sigh, mingi unfurled his arms and pressed the buzzer, mustering up his coldest glare as he waited for someone to get the door. 

not even a minute later, the door swung inward, revealing a wide-eyed san. "when did you head out?" 

mingi shoved past him, any thought of manners slipping from his mind. "six o'clock this morning, same as the rest of you." 

"no need to be so pushy," san snapped, closing the door and locking it. he watched as mingi toed his shoes off, eyes narrowing when mingi mocked,

"nO nEEd tO bE sO pUshY,"

san scoffed and crossed his arms. "the hell's your problem, man?" 

mingi stared at the other blankly. did he really not know? were they really that blissfully unaware of mingi's absence of presence? mingi just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "you're a fucking idiot, san." 

mingi turned to stalk off to his room, but was stopped with a hand pressed to his chest. hongjoong stood in front of him, seongwha and yeosang looming behind him, each with a confused look on his features; none of them had ever really seen mingi this ticked off before. 

"what's going on out here?" hongjoong asked, ever the peacemaker. 

san passed mingi and stood beside hongjoong. "you tell me. all i did was ask him where he'd gone to and this one—" san shoved a finger in mingi's direction. "— decided to go all dicko mode on me!" 

"the fuck is a dicko mode?" someone suddenly asked, and wooyoung stepped into the room, quickly followed by jongho and yunho. "also, can you guys keep it down? we're trying to watch frozen but we can't when you keep screaming at each other." 

seongwha sighed and stepped forward, placing a hand on mingi's shoulder. "mingi-ah, where did you go? we all thought you were resting in your room." 

mingi shrugged off seongwha's hand. ordinarily, he would welcome the touch, never one to turn down affection and comfort. but he was pissed, and cold, and tired, and petty. 

"i didn't go anywhere, _seongwha_ ," everyone's eyes widened at the blatant lack of honorific, and seongwha looked ready to smack the shit out of mingi. "because i was still at the fucking studio! seven people, and not one of you realized i wasn't in the car with you! i had to walk home in the freezing cold, and nearly got my ass ate by a fucking stray dog! and to top it all off, my back has been killing me the whole day! so fuck you!" 

mingi pushed through the small crowd of people, stalking down the hallway. the stunned boys could hear his door slam shut, and suddenly each one was filled with guilt. 

——

the next morning, mingi was awoken to the smell of pancakes and bacon flooding throughout their dorm. but he didn’t want to get out of his bed and go eat, not when he had to face the members to do so. he felt bad about blowing up at them the night before, but he told himself that they deserved it. after weeks of being alienated, being left at the studio was the last straw. 

but soon his hunger won over, and he rolled out of bed. his back hurt much more than the day before, but he pushed through the pain and stumbled over to the door. he yanked it open, nearly running into yunho in the hallway. 

the pair paused in their steps, and yunho gulped anxiously, bowing at the waist. “i want to apologize—“ 

mingi rolled his eyes, pushing past him. “save it, hyung.” 

when he entered the kitchen, he found seonghwa standing at the stove with wooyoung beside him, both facing away from him. he tried to quietly sneak over to the pantry, but when he opened the door, it creaked loudly, alerting the pair of his presence. 

“mingi!” wooyoung exclaimed, “we’re making your favorite breakfast. it’ll be ready soon—“ 

“i’m not hungry.” a lie. but mingi didn’t want to eat with them, not in the slightest. so he turned on his heel and went back to his room, slamming the door behind him. he quickly got ready for the day. 

then he left the dorm, ignoring the calls of his name and pushing past anyone who tried to stop him from leaving. 

——

mingi sat at the corner booth of his favorite diner, the one he came to every time he felt exceptionally depressed and just had to get away from the dorms. not many people knew about it, so it was less of a risk of getting recognized by some fans who just wanted a picture with him. 

a stack of waffles topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream sat on the table in front of him. not exactly good for his idol diet, but at the moment he couldn’t be bothered to care; it was his comfort food, and he needed comfort. 

not even half of his plate was gone when hongjoong sat in the booth across from him. 

mingi pursed his lips and sighed, leaning back in his seat. “the hell do you want, hyung?”

“to talk.” 

“if it wasn’t already obvious, i don’t want to.” 

“i-i know,” hongjoong started. “but we need to talk stuff out — all eight of us. we want to apologize, truly. we all feel horrible about forgetting you at the studio last night and we want to make it up to you.” 

mingi crossed his arms, remaining silent. 

hongjoong continued, desperate to get something out of mingi. “look, as the leader, i hate seeing us divided. we’re supposed to be a family—“

mingi scoffed. “oh, don’t give me that _bullshit. “_ as the leader”, you shouldn’t have forgotten one of your members at the studio. you should have fucking noticed that for the past four months, i’ve been alienated by my so-called family!” mingi seethed, smacking his hand down on the table. he didn’t care who was watching, he just wanted to get his point across. “as the leader,” he began quietly. “you should have included me. you should have noticed all of the weird looks i got whenever i did something you guys didn’t like. you should have noticed that one of your members was faking their happiness.” 

hongjoong blinked at him, eyes wide. “i-i’m sorry, mingi-ah. i should have noticed, you’re right! but i’ll do better, i promise. i’ll be more attentive to how you’re feeling, and i’ll be sure you aren’t left out! i—“

mingi shook his head. “you may feel that way, hyung, but what about the others? can you promise me that they’ll change?” 

hongjoong paused, then shook his head. he averted his eyes to the table. “i can’t promise that, no. but if we go back and explain, maybe—“

“maybe what? they’ll suddenly like me again? hyung, you can’t change someone’s opinion of you with a simple talk.” 

hongjoong shook his head. “no, they like you. i know they do. have you seen the way jongho and wooyoung look at you during choreo practice? or the way san smiles softly when he watches you rap? i’ve seen how proud yunho looks when you memorize a line and recite it perfectly. and i’ve seen seongwha’s smile when you like something he’s cooked. i’ve seen the way yeosang laughs along with you when you let yourself have fun.”

mingi’s eyes watered. 

“mingi-ah, we all love you. sometimes… we just don’t fully understand you. and we all want to, believe me, we do, but you just have to let us.” 

mingi sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve, eyes wandering toward the window. “that doesn’t excuse anything. i haven’t felt like a part of the group in months.” 

hongjoong smiled sadly. “i know. and we’re all at fault. we shouldn’t have ever let you feel that way. we’ll do better, i promise.” 

mingi shook his head. “don’t do that to me, hyung. don’t get my hopes up. don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

hongjoong reached across the table and grabbed mingi’s hand. “i’m gonna keep this one. trust me.” 

mingi pulled his hand from hongjoong’s, letting it fall into his lap. “i know how it’s gonna go, though. you’ll all crowd me for a few days —maybe a few weeks if i’m lucky— but then it’ll go back to the way it was.” 

hongjoong sucked in a deep breath. “just come back to the dorm with me mingi. please. explain how you feel to everyone else. we’ll try to work things out.”

mingi glared at him skeptically, but finally relented. “fine. just let me finish my breakfast first.” 

—— 

when they got back to the dorm, the eight of them gathered in the living room. mingi stood in the center of the couches with hongjoong beside him and explained the feelings he’d been keeping bottled up for months, trying his best not to burst into tears at any given moment. 

san was the first to speak up. “i feel horrible, mingi. i never even realized what i was doing hurt you. it doesn’t excuse anything, but that night of the interview when i was doing my live? i was going to come over to you and do my little interview. but your stylists were still doing stuff with you and when they were done, you went straight to playing with your phone. i thought you just didn’t want to be in the live, so i didn’t try.” 

wooyoung’s apology came next, tears of shame streaming down his cheeks. after him came yesoang, then yunho and finally followed by jongho 

seonghwa was last. but instead of blurting out a heartfelt apology like the rest, he stood from his seat and stumbled toward mingi, wrapping his arms around the younger’s neck and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“i’m sorry,” he murmured into mingi’s ear. “i’m so, so sorry. i love you mingi-ah.”

and with that, mingi broke down, sobbing into seonghwa’s neck. “please-please don’t do it again. don’t… don’t make me feel… like this again!” 

seonghwa rifled his fingers through mingi’s hair, speaking to him softly. “i won’t, mingi. i swear.” 

mingi felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind— hongjoong’s. then a pair around each of his legs — wooyoung and jongho. yunho encircled him from the side and yeosang from the opposite side, and san crawled down to hug each of his legs. 

“you’re all a bunch of dicks,” mingi spat between sobs. but he laughed after, letting them know he didn’t mean it — not really. he may have felt that way for a long time, but right now? 

he felt relieved. 

relieved he’d finally told them his inner turmoil and relieved that they didn’t really hate him. 

“it’s gonna take me a long time to forgive you.” 

“we know,” seonghwa murmured. “and that’s okay. but we’ll do everything we can to prove how much we love you.”

“just don’t go back to ignoring me after, alright?”

“wouldn’t dream of it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm relatively new to the fandom (three months and counting!) so forgive me if there are any mistakes!


End file.
